Chirality
by GabriellaGadfly
Summary: Chiral (adjective): Something that is asymmetric in such a way that it cannot be superimposed onto its mirror image. In which Zim actually is just a sick kid with a skin condition, but Dib is still utterly convinced that he's an alien. (more detailed summary inside)
1. Chapter 1

_Full Summary:_

_Chiral (adjective): Something that is asymmetric in such a way that it cannot be superimposed onto its mirror image._

_In which Zim actually is just a sick kid with a skin condition, but Dib is still utterly convinced that he's an alien._

_Being called an alien was nothing new to Zim, but he found that with Dib, it could sometimes be fun playing along with his delusions. It was refreshing, having someone see him without sickening amounts of pity, having someone see him as a superior being, someone to be respected and feared. Most of the time, at least. Because Dib believed the game they were playing was real, didn't know when to stop or let up._

* * *

"He's an **alien!** How is no one else seeing this? Green skin? Weird ears? He's obviously come to take over the Earth!"

Zim's face started to burn as the other kid ranted. Of course this new school wouldn't be any better than the last. Of course. It had been stupid to ever hope otherwise. They were already accusing him of not even being human, just because he happened to look different. Memories of taunts echoed through his brain as the kid continued talking. _Freak. Weirdo. Pathetic. Crip. Alien. _

And everything had gone so well this morning. He'd woken up with more energy than he'd had in days and only a mild headache. He'd even managed to eat almost all of the breakfast that his parents had made. His parents, who, for once, had actually been home, ready to see him and Gir off for their first day at their new school with a hug and kind words (and sadness in their eyes, but that was okay, it was fine, so long as his parents were actually there with them, and not off at some stupid conference. It didn't bother him that not even his own parents could look at him without that stupid pity in their gaze, nope, didn't bother him at all). And of course, he was going to meet with one of the greatest scientific minds of the century in a week. (Sure, it was so that the Professor could try and find a better treatment for his illnesses, but it was a face-to-face meeting with the great Professor Membrane nonetheless!) The day had started out so well, so naturally, it couldn't last.

"I'm _not _an alien. I'm just sick. So would you _shut up?" _

"Yeah, shut up, Dib! You're being an idiot." someone piped up from the back of the classroom. At least someone here was on his side.

"You may have fooled the rest of them, alien scum, but you won't fool me! I'm Dib Membrane, hunter of all things paranormal, and I won't rest, won't stop, until you and your evil plans are vanquished, once and for all!" the other boy declared, standing on his desk as if he was expecting the background to change to one of a waving American flag.

"Wait. Membrane?" Zim blurted out.

The other boy paused, confused. "Yeah? What's it to you?"

Zim considered his words for a moment before replying. "Nothing."

If the other boy really was related to Professor Membrane, it was probably best that Zim didn't mention the reason why they'd moved here, considering how Dib had practically declared Zim his mortal enemy within the, what, five minutes they'd known each other?

Zim went back to the worksheet in front of him, having already chalked up the idiot kid as nothing more than an annoyance and trying to figure out where this new school was in their curriculum compared to his old one.

"Hey. Hey! Don't you ignore me! You think you can just lead us all into intergalactic slavery like lambs to the slaughter? Well, I, for one, am not sold!"

"Sit _down,_ Dib. If you interrupt the class one more time, you'll have detention for a month cleaning out the basement."

Dib paled at that and muttered "Yes, Ms. Bitters", seemingly mollified.

After that, he didn't say anything out loud, but no matter how Zim tried, the subsequent glares proved impossible to ignore.

* * *

The new kid was an alien. Dib knew it. He just knew it. He didn't know why no one else could see it. The alien (Zim, he thought his name was?) had almost his entire body covered up, and wiped down everything before touching it, _obviously _afraid of 'dirty Earth bacteria'. He had green tinged skin, metal where his ears should have been, a weird round thing sticking to the side of his head, and a radio antenna protruding from one of his 'ears'. Did Dib mention the _green skin? _It was plain as day that Zim's claim of being 'sick' was a hasty cover-up that only Dib was smart enough to see through. No one had believed him, just like every other time he'd tried to reveal the truth of the world. However, though he was still smarting from the jeers his classmates had thrown at him, Dib knew that this time, things were different. This time, things would finally change. This time, now that there was actual proof of the paranormal sitting only a few desks away from him, he'd finally be able to prove that he was right about everything all along. He'd foil the alien's Earth-conquering plans and reveal him to the world, and finally, everyone would see that they'd been wrong to doubt him. Dib Membrane, savior of humanity. It had a nice ring to it, he thought.

* * *

_A/N:_

_ Inspired by The sick human Zim AU by MLHmoo_

_Art by Stargazer233 on Tumblr_

_Even though I'm disabled myself, being deaf and having cochlear implants, I'm not chronically ill, so if I get anything wrong about any of Zim's illnesses or the general experience of being chronically ill, feel free to let me know!_  
_I hope you guys enjoy the fic, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Warning for mentions of medical trauma - details in endnotes_

* * *

When the bell rang for lunch, Zim pulled his backpack closer to himself, waiting for the majority of the crowd to disperse before he tried to make it to the lunch room.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Dib hadn't stood up yet. Instead, he kept glancing at Zim. Was Dib… waiting for him? Quickly deciding that he didn't want anything to do with whatever the kid who'd insulted him and called him names in front of the entire class wanted to do while they were alone, Zim stood up, having decided to brave the crowd, rather than risk the room clearing any more.

People kept bumping into him. It was annoying and nerve-wracking and made his head hurt. He wasn't entirely sure where the cafeteria was, so he decided to follow the other kids, entertaining a brief fantasy of the crowd parting before him as they would before royalty. If Zim ruled this place, he'd have everyone who dared to jostle him executed as they begged for their pitiful lives. Ah, happy thoughts.

Just inside the door, Zim loosed himself from the slipstream of children and stood in the corner, looking for somewhere empty to sit. But there weren't any tables that didn't have at least one person there, and as he watched, any empty seats were rapidly filling. He was going to have to decide fast if he wanted to sit somewhere and not just stand around like a dooky-filled lump in the germy corner of the room for the entire lunch period. He had to decide. But there were too many variables, too many things that could affect the outcome.

Zim blinked, and suddenly, he was the only one standing. Everyone else was eating already. There were only two tables that still had empty seats. The Dib was sitting at one of them, so that was obviously out of the question.

His decision made for him, Zim thus marched over to the table in the other corner. Confidence was key. Confidence was everything. He pulled out the chair that gave him the most distance from other kids and twisted around to unzip his backpack, taking out the disinfectant and wet wipes he always carried with him. He sprayed the table and chair and wiped it off before sitting down. He gave a nod to the other kids sitting at the table, who were staring at him, but didn't take umbrage to his presence otherwise.

That settled, Zim took out the food that the nurse-bots had packed and ate his lunch. Or at least, he tried to. Sure, Zim knew that it was important for his body to get calories and nutrients, but his stomach just wasn't cooperating. Nausea roiled in him at the thought of choking down the food, even food as bland and innocuous as most of it was. He pushed the lunchbox further away from himself, not wanting to even see its contents. Zim decided that he would try again midway through the lunch period. If the nausea was still there, he'd call it a bust and see if it was any better in his afternoon classes. It had to be, because despite his increased appetite this morning, Zim was still dangerously low on calories, and he was _not _about to go through another feeding tube if he could help it.

Both his cochlear implant and his hearing aid turned off in the hopes that the lack of sound would help with his headache, Zim checked all of his medical equipment, just to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and then took out his tablet. He set an alarm and, in order to while away the lunch period, pulled up the book he was reading.

Zim couldn't focus, though. The words just kept blurring in front of his eyes, and he kept having to go back and reread sentences.

He looked around the lunchroom just to have something to do, and immediately regretted it, for as soon as Dib was in his line of sight, the other boy pointed at his food with a mocking expression, lips moving in an over-exaggerated manner. Very classy. Make fun of the sick kid for not being able to eat.

With a withering glare and a stuck-out tongue, Zim pointedly turned back to his book, refusing to glance up again, no matter how many times he had to reread the same paragraph.

* * *

The rest of the day passed much like the morning had, because of course it did. Because Zim wasn't nearly old enough to switch classrooms throughout the day. Because apparently he'd be stuck with the stupid, ugly, big-headed kid for the rest of the year, at least.

By the time he'd made it home, Zim was on edge enough that he snapped at Gir when he tried to hug him, making his little brother wilt like a flower in a vase. Zim knew he'd feel bad about that later, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care.

He made it up to his room, yelling at the nurse-bots until they went away, and was finally able to scream into his pillow.

"Stupid, stupid boy! He's such an utter pile of, of dooky!"

It wasn't anything he couldn't deal with - he'd dealt with worse at his old school, though, admittedly, no one had harped on the same topic for quite so long. They'd preferred to mix it up a bit.

It was annoying, but that was all it was. That's all it was. Besides, the taunting and teasing was more than worth it to be able to go to school, to not be cooped up in the house all day, being smothered to death.

An insistent beeping pulled him out of his spiral of fury. His heart rate was getting too high, which, of course, wasn't healthy. If it got much higher, the nurse-bots would put a sedative in his IV line, and Zim hated how it felt, to have his mind go all fuzzy and his limbs feel like lead weights. He'd been trying to get into their programming to change it, but he hadn't been able to get through the firewalls around the be-ridiculously-overprotective-of-Zim's-health-without-his-consent part of their programming. They couldn't leave the house though, so there was that. That reminded him, though. He needed to install actual, physical locks on his door soon. He'd had them at their old house, but here, he hadn't had the time to order them, much less install them. Long story short, they could get in to knock him unconscious against his will so that his heart didn't explode from all the stress or something, and Zim very much did not want that. Restraints, needles, no one ever listening no matter what he said or did, and his heartbeat just kept getting higher and higher.

_Okay, okay, breathe, Zim, breathe. You're strong, you're brave, you're powerful, if they try to stab needles in you again and again and again because they obviously know better - nope, those are bad thoughts, bad thoughts, don't think about that right now, you're trying to get your heart rate down. Down. Now, breathe in, one two three, and out, one two three. _

As Zim counted his breaths, laying down on the bed and trying to ignore his throbbing head, his heart rate ticked down agonizingly, agonizingly slowly.

Finally, when he was certain he'd created a safe buffer, Zim dared to get up and swing his legs over the side of the bed.

This, this right here, was why he _had _to go to school. He knew his parents would let him be homeschooled if he only asked, but if he wasn't able to get out of the house, he swore he'd go insane. He was treated like he was some weak, helpless invalid who couldn't even wipe his own bottom! He couldn't even be furious safely. Sure, sure, long-term heart problems, long-term heart problems, but he knew what all his medicines did, which ones to take, and he could very well lower his heart rate on his own, thank you very much. Stupid parents that think they know everything. Stupid bots that gave him no choice in anything they did to him. More than anything else, this was what was stressing him out, and why couldn't they see that? But _no _, he was just a silly little kid, adorable thinking that he could be involved in things that were only for grown-ups to have any say in, like, oh, say, his own damn body!

At least outside the house he had more freedom, more choices. At least out there he wasn't treated like he could keel over at any moment. And he'd be damned if he let the Dib ruin it for him!

* * *

_A/N: Warning for medical trauma: Zim gets panicked over the nurse-bots possibly sedating him without his consent if his heart rate gets too high, which brings up memories of previous medical trauma involving needles and not being listened to. He then gets frustrated over how his bodily autonomy tends not to be respected._

_Hope the chapter was enjoyable! I'd love to hear your thoughts!_


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days went much like the first. Zim would go to school, and Dib would continuously insult him and taunt him and try to turn everyone else against him. Luckily, his opinion didn't seem to hold much weight, and the other kids were rather more accepting than most he'd encountered, taking him on his word that he was sick, and that on some days he could do more than he could on others, without any need to prove himself, to divulge his medical history. Despite this, the constant accusations of him not even being human, of him being some disgusting, alien freak, grated on him. It was a constant annoyance that got to him, as much as he tried not to let it, as much as he tried to breathe, to only fantasize about punching the Dib's face in instead of actually jumping him and letting the cap of his fury loose. The taunts, nevertheless, reached to some of his deepest insecurities and pulled them out into the light for everyone to see. And every day that passed without retaliation, the other child grew more bold, more daring. It seemed as if even if Zim didn't escalate the situation, he realized, it would be escalated for him. And if he couldn't avoid confrontation, well, it would be foolish to do anything other than be as prepared as possible for it, give himself every possible advantage (because if it came down to a physical fight, a contest of strength and of stamina, he'd likely lose, through no fault of his own).

As such, the morning after said realization, Zim was prepared. He'd already taken his daily shot of Desferal, which was apparently supposed to help control the thalassemia, before the nurse-bots could do it for him, and aside from his normal equipment and medicines, he'd packed pepper spray and his trusty taser (okay, sure, so they were technically 'against the rules', but they couldn't write him up for it if they never found out). Just the threat of it should be enough to get the big-headed kid to back off if he went too far. He didn't have quite as many spoons as he'd had the previous day, but it was still better than usual, so he wasn't complaining.

At breakfast, Gir chattered on rapid-fire about his kindergarten teacher while Zim pushed the eggs around his plate. Not for the first time, he wondered at how it was possible for Gir to talk for so long without taking a breath. After fixing Gir's clothes - the shirt had been on inside-out - Zim walked him to the bus, and then walked the short distance to school, ready as he'd ever be to face whatever the day might throw at him.

At school, he sat down where he sat in every class - first row, rightmost desk. That way he could hear the teacher better and have his better ear facing everyone. It was especially important because the school hadn't been able to get him an FM system or live captioning yet. As such, he had to expend much of his energy on staring at the teacher and reading her lips to try and catch what she was saying, which seemed to be less actual education and more ominous tangents. He couldn't even take notes and listen at the same time, not that he'd even want to take notes on how they were all eventually going to die. He thought enough about death without anyone else adding to it, thank you very much.

Dib was oddly quiet compared to the past few days, and especially compared to the fury and rage of the previous day, which hopefully meant that he'd gotten over his obsession. Zim should have known better than to hope.

What with Dib's silence and what with finally being able to put his focus entirely on his schoolwork, Zim had been able to put the other kid completely out of his mind by the time they were let out for their break, which turned out not to have been the wisest choice, as Dib was easily able to corner him, backing him into a dead-end hallway.

"I don't know how you have the rest of them fooled, with that utterly ridiculous disguise, but you made the wrong choice, coming here. Because now I know all about you, and no matter where you go, what you do, I'll be there, hunting you, foiling you. It's only a matter of time, _ Zim _, so why don't you just give up now?" His face was so close Zim could smell his breath, nose wrinkling as he did.

"Give what up?"

"Your world-dominating plans, obviously!"

"You. You actually believe that?"

"Well, duh."

"I'm, I'm not an alien, okay?" Zim tried to look for a way around the other boy and could find none. His heart was pounding, and he was distantly able to register that that probably wasn't a good sign. He tried to back further into the wall, the sinister grin on Dib's face not pointing to anything that boded well for him.

"Oh please. Give up the act, already."

The act. Maybe that was the way out. It was a risk, but it was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

Fighting his instincts, Zim straightened up and leaned towards the other kid.

"You have no idea what forces you're dealing with, human. You have no idea what I'm capable of. Now, let me through and let me alone, and maybe I won't have to destroy you."

Dib's face paled visibly, and he offered no resistance when Zim pushed past his arm.

Zim kept up the confident strut up until he'd turned into the bathroom down the hall, where he finally let himself panic.

He wasn't even supposed to be in here - there were too many germs, but he couldn't think of anywhere else he could go.

Dib had been so close to him, poking his chest, snarling out threats of annihilation in a voice of utter fury. He remembered the hands clenched into fists, the spittle in his face, the hyperawareness that if the Dib was pushed even an inch more over the edge, his restraint would break, and he'd lay into Zim with his fists, not holding back, because apparently he didn't believe Zim was anything less than perfectly healthy, just _ pretending _ to be disabled. (And how dare he? Zim would never do so disgusting a thing! Typical abled person. The moment someone didn't meet their stereotypical Hollywood image of disability, all of a sudden they just _ had _ to be pretending) There were still black spots in his vision from how hard his heart had been working, and his chest was feeling tight. That had been such a close call. And if he'd gotten beaten up on his first week of school, had to go to the hospital, his parents would almost certainly pull him out, make him some sort of overprotective tutor-bot, and remove his excuse for freedom, for a change of scenery. Yes, Zim knew that it was quite possible his health would decline enough that he would have to be homeschooled nonetheless, but he was going to delay that day as long as he possibly could.

As the deep breathing Zim forced himself into slowed his vitals to something closer to baseline, his mind snagged on what had happened at the end. For some reason, playing into the other child's insults had caused him to back off, the very opposite of what tended to happen. Not only had Dib finally let him get away, but the look on his face was almost… apprehensive? Scared? It was an unfamiliar thing to have directed at him. (yes, he'd had people be afraid _ of _ him, little kids running away with a "Mommy, that boy's green!", but this didn't feel like that. It was more like he was afraid of what Zim could do, afraid Zim would follow through on his threats, thought he actually _ could _ follow through on his threats, and it was a novel experience to have someone look at him like that, to have that kind of power attributed to him. If he erased everything that had happened beforehand, it was almost pleasant.)

The bell rang, cutting into his thoughts, and just like that, Zim realized that the extra things he'd packed this morning were still there in his pockets, weighing them down. Didn't that just figure? He'd prepared this morning for just such an eventuality, and yet, the moment that Dib had cornered him, all of his plans had vanished from his mind like they'd been crammed onto a warp pad to the nearest black hole. He wouldn't let it happen again. He wouldn't.

Zim debated internally for a moment before deciding to go back to class. No one was going to force the mighty Zim into submission, and he wasn't about to let the other kid think that he'd won.

Zim's hand was on the pepper spray throughout the rest of the day, but he never got the chance to use it, as Dib stayed hunched over his work, his eyes quickly sliding away every time Zim caught Dib staring at him, and hurrying away as soon as the final bell rang. Zim had the odd urge to sneak up on him and go "Boo", just to see what would happen, but Dib was gone before Zim had even finished the thought.

* * *

_A/N: Spoons: a common shorthand among the chronic illness community for energy_


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Zim woke up, he knew that today was not going to be a good day. Not even close.

"Computer," Zim mumbled. "Tell the school that I'm too sick to go." And with that, not even bothering to put on his hearing aid or cochlear implant or check the screen in order to confirm that the order had been received, he pulled the covers further over himself and tried to go back to sleep. His limbs felt heavier than iron, his head pounding like someone was trying to drive a railroad spike into his brain. Not for the first time, he was thankful for his deafness. If the headache was this bad with only the highly muffled noise coming in through his good ear, how agonizing would it have been had he been able to hear? After tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, he was finally, finally able to slip into blissful unconsciousness.

When he woke up again, around mid-morning, there was a tray of eggs, bread with butter, soda, and his morning medicine, from the nurse-bots, beside some bags of chips and candy, with a note from Gir in uneven block lettering.

I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON! I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH!

YOUR FAVORITE BROTHER,

GIR

A small smile came to his face at that, that his little brother was thinking about him, trying to do what he could to help, to cheer him up (which, granted, wasn't all that much, given that he was only 6, but it was the thought that counted. It definitely, definitely counted.)

He didn't really feel hungry, but he was able to force some of the bread and soda down, along with his medicine. He'd try to eat more later.

Though Zim was still tired, he was also aware that he likely wouldn't be able to go to sleep again just yet. As such, he tried to wiggle himself up to a sitting position against the pillows, asking the computer to turn on some television. By this point, it had a good idea of what he might like, and as such, turned on a sci-fi show with lots of explosions, the screen dimmed and captions blown up large so that he didn't have to strain his eyes more than necessary.

The vibrant scenery and the action were able to distract him some, but despite it, the headache, the heaviness, the exhaustion, never quite left his awareness, soon joined by the growing realization that it was actually cold in here. Very, very cold. Zim tried to pull the blankets closer to himself, though even the comforter felt like it was wisp-thin, for all the good it was doing him.

"Computer. Turn up the heat." he snapped out. When no change seemed forthcoming, he glared towards the ceiling with a "Now!"

A small vibration from the monitor at his wrist turned his attention towards the screen.

_I apologize, Zim, but with the level of fever you have, my protocols do not allow me to turn up the heat any further. You are already overly hot as is. _read the text on the now otherwise-blank screen.

"Protocols, shmotocols. Everything is protocols. I'm the one actually here. Me. Not them. So by all rights you should be listening to me. I swear, I _will _figure out how to get into your code one of these days, and when I do, you will rue the day you ever dared defy the mighty Zim!" He tried out a cackle, to see how it felt, which he quickly regretted as the maniacal laughter turned into painful, hacking coughs.

When he had finally caught his breath, he looked up at the screen to see new words written there.

_It's good to see you up and about._

"Oh, just shut up, would you?" It would never admit it, but Zim had learned to recognize the computer's dry sense of humor for what it was. He recognized it and he did _not _appreciate it, thank you very much.

Pride properly wounded and knowing the futility of arguing further, Zim retreated further into his cocoon of blankets, trying to get warm somehow. Glancing over at the nightstand, he saw that the breakfast had been removed and replaced with another tray of food without him noticing. The thought disturbed him more than he would like to admit. Maybe he had just fallen asleep without realizing. Yeah. That happened sometimes. He fell asleep. That's what it had been. There wasn't any possibility that he was losing time. None at all. Contradictory memories of his recent insomnia were quickly pushed out of his mind.

In order to further attempt to convince himself of what was _definitely _the truth and to provide evidence that he could point to after the fact, Zim started making a conscious effort to go to sleep, counting backwards in his head, curling further into himself to try and stave away the chill, trying to relax the muscles that just wanted to tense against the pain. He didn't know how long it took, but by increments, a light doze finally came. He was snapped back to wakefulness soon enough, yes, but at least he had managed a bit more sleep, which he knew was important, especially when he was trying to fight off an illness.

In lieu of food, which his roiling stomach told him was not about to go down right now, and which was probably cold, besides, Zim decided to make another go at the firewalls protecting the house's technology—he'd get in this time, surely, and even if he didn't, even attempts that ultimately proved futile could teach him more about the systems and coding, make his next attempt more likely to succeed. He had only just gotten through the locks preventing people from getting into the code in the first place when he was interrupted by Gir, who had apparently gotten home from school. Just how much time had passed, anyways?

He noticed that Gir had brought up snacks and stuffed animals with him and as he watched, Gir spread them atop the covers before turning to stare at him with pleading eyes.

Zim held out for a moment and then gave in. "Yeah, okay, c'mon up, just be careful, okay?" He probably didn't need the reminder—sure, Gir forgot practically everything, but the fact of Zim's illnesses had been a fact of his life for as long as he'd been alive—nevertheless, he did tend to be hyper and oblivious at times, and so, Zim thought he might as well emphasize that he _really _wasn't feeling well, just in case Gir had any more active ideas in mind.

Gir said something Zim couldn't catch, then he climbed up on the opposite side of the bed. He had the telltale smell of disinfectant, presumably having been made to scrub down before entering. He scooted closer, but paused a few inches away from Zim with a slightly hesitant look on his face.

Zim rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Just get in, would you? I'm not _that _fragile."

He must look worse than he thought, Zim supposed as Gir snuggled into his side. To be fair, it would make sense, what with how he'd been feeling.

Zim refused the proffered candies with a groan as the realization hit. The only food he'd had was those few bites early in the morning, and with the way his insides were protesting, it wasn't anywhere near likely that that would be improving any time soon. With a spike of frustration, he reluctantly resigned himself to the inevitable IV.

A stuffed animal was pushed into his chest, the unexpected softness snapping his thoughts out of their spiral. That was in the future, he reminded himself with no small amount of force. That was a problem for future Zim to deal with. Right now, all present Zim had to do was rest and be with his brother.

Watching Gir's mouth move, he felt his eyes finally getting heavy. Gir warm where he was tucked against him, Zim ruffled his little brother's hair, a mess as always, a soft smile forming as he drifted off again.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been days since the alien had been in class. Dib would like to think that he'd scared Zim off with the sheer force of his conviction, but deep down, he knew it wasn't likely. Not with how Zim had just shrugged off the pathetic cowering and stared him down without an ounce of fear, eyes hard, cold, inhuman. No, the more likely conclusion was that he was preparing for something, had decided that some piece of work was too important to waste time going to school and trying to blend in. Unbidden, Dib's mind jumped to the last things the alien had said the day before he disappeared. As much as he tried to stay confident, the fact of the matter was that the alien was right. He genuinely had no idea what Zim was capable of. He was hiding behind a disguise, but just how much was he hiding? The change that had come over him, the way he had turned cold, sharp, and calculating as he had mockingly held the lives of Dib's family over his head, much as he'd tried to hide it, had been terrifying.

He'd tried to spy on Zim's house (Zim's bright green and magenta house. It was like he wasn't even trying! What was he going to do next, put up a neon sign saying _Alien Residence? _And probably everyone would still think he was human, even then. It was driving Dib insane, how gullible everyone was. Some days it felt like he was the only sane person on this freakshow of a planet.) but he hadn't even been able to get close enough to look in the windows before being driven off by the security system. Unconsciously, he rubbed his bruised and aching arm at the memory.

As Dib swung his backpack over his shoulder, he thought about what he knew about Zim so far. Malicious world-conquering alien? Check. Not above fighting dirty? Check. Working on a secret plan he had no idea how to counter? Check. What he could do, Dib had little clue, but he knew he had to try. He couldn't just give up now. Because if he didn't try, didn't stop Zim, no one else would, and the world would be doomed. And that? That was unacceptable. No one believed him, but they would see the truth soon enough and he'd finally be recognized for the hero he was, so that was okay. That was _okay, _Dib forcefully thought to himself, as he was shoved in the halls, cracking his head on the tiled floor as he went down hard. It was. It was completely fine that ever since the alien had arrived and he'd found his new purpose in life, the thing he'd been put on this world for, the ostracization and bullying had only gotten worse. The looks of utter disgust on the faces of the kids who passed him as he pushed himself up were new, he thought absently. Before, they'd just been mocking and exasperated and _dumb. _A few 'accidental' kicks later, and he was up and frustrated with the still-idiotic kids. How had they gotten taken in so easily and completely with the alien's faux-innocent 'I'm just a harmless kid who's in elementary school but is somehow sick with something that turned my skin _green _and made me need alien technology, oh, I'm sorry, _hearing devices, _and no, I'm not going to tell you what this mysterious illness that's never been observed in a human being is, you're just going to have to take me at my word' act? Perhaps Zim had hypnotized them? But then again, that was probably putting too much trust in his classmates' intelligence.

Dib finally made it out from the crush of people and into the fresh air, shooting a hate-filled glare at his sworn enemy's technicolor house before making for home.

* * *

Zim had just discovered a new wild area and was exploring it, walking through the trees with their leaves rustling in the wind and watching the wildlife scurry around as he chased them down, when his alarm went off, the vibration pulsing against his wrist reminding him of the time. He took one last look around the forest before pausing the video game he was playing. It really was beautiful, he thought. With effort, he pushed himself up, swinging his legs off the bed and turning off the alarm. Thankfully, he'd managed to eat enough the previous day for the IV to be taken out. He'd been feeling better today, and he'd almost been tempted to try and make it to school, but he'd decided he couldn't risk it. He'd need all of his strength for the meeting, and he wanted to make a good first impression, so he didn't want to take a chance on having to miss it due to being too tired from school, or catching something else while his immune system was still recovering.

"Computer! Have the parental units arrived yet?"

_"According to their schedule, they are currently in a business meeting in Japan."_

The sad thing was, Zim wasn't even surprised. Even though they'd promised they would drive him to the appointment, and he'd hoped that they'd actually remember this time, that hope was tempered by a lifetime of unkept promises and constant absences. They were hardly ever home, always either traveling or locked up working on some project or another. They'd always missed important events, had even delegated consent for hospital treatment to a program (okay, maybe that one wasn't exactly fair—it wasn't like him being in the hospital was an unusual occurrence). The point was, time with their children had been on the very bottom of his parents' priority list for ages. Why would anything change now?

With a sigh, he addressed the computer once more. "Computer! Once I'm almost at the front door, notify a rideshare that they will take me to the Membrane residence."

In addition to his backpack, which he carried with him everywhere, a wheeled bag was waiting by the door of his room, filled with copies of his entire medical history, pills, medical equipment, and some high-calorie snacks and sodas in case, by some miracle, he actually got hungry.

Getting off the bed, Zim went over to the mirror and tried to smooth down his hair and his clothes. He looked even worse than usual because of his recent illness, he noticed. At least he'd changed that morning, so he didn't have to go through _that _entire process. When he was satisfied that he looked as neat as he was going to get, he grabbed his backpack and the rolling bag and headed to the elevator, ready as he'd ever be to meet _the actual Professor Membrane. _


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry this took so long! Quarantine has *not* been good for my writing output - I'm a slow writer at the best of times and the bulk of my writing is usually done while I'm procrastinating on other things_  
_Hopefully you guys won't have to wait as long for the next!_  
_Anyways, hope you enjoy, and I hope to hear your thoughts! Comments honestly make my day and I appreciate each and every one of them!_

* * *

Dib was poring over the blurry pictures he'd managed to snap of the exterior of his nemesis's base with a magnifying glass, trying to find some sort of clue as to his capabilities. Know thy enemy, wasn't that what people always said? So far, he'd turned up little (except for even more evidence of just how terrible Zim was at camouflage), but surely if he was smart enough, was observant enough, he'd be able to turn all those disparate details into actual conclusions. It felt like puzzle pieces were on the verge of slotting together in his mind, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't make that last logical leap, and it frustrated him to no end. There had to be something he was missing. Some final detail that would make everything click and finally reveal the larger picture.

He groaned, letting his head fall against the desk with a dull thump.

Ow. Ow. That had not been a good idea. He was probably going to get a bruise there. The perfect capstone to a shitty day. And now Gaz was yelling. Just wonderful. He'd better go see what she wanted before she got annoyed enough to come up.

Opening the bedroom door, he hollered down a "What did you say?"

"I _said, _get the door, Dib!"

"But you're closer!" he whined. She was, he knew she was. She was on the living room couch, in all likelihood, literally ten feet away from the door. But no, instead of walking that _insane _distance, she wanted _him _to come all the way downstairs.

"Do you think I care?" Gaz growled, and wow, that low and menacing tone had made his hair stand on end and had sent an involuntary shudder down his spine. You know what? Maybe it was best to get the door after all. It was completely his own decision, not motivated any by any sort of fear of his little sister, nope, not at all.

With a sigh, Dib made his way down the stairs and towards the door, where the doorbell was constantly ringing. He opened it, freezing in shock for a moment before immediately slamming it shut again. What. The. Actual. Hell. He couldn't have seen what he'd just seen, right? No way he would… It was too blatant, too- Oh, who was Dib kidding? Blatant might as well be his middle name, considering all he'd done thus far. But still, Dib had to be sure. Plus, if the constant ringing didn't stop soon, he was going to bash someone's head in.

Tentatively, he opened the door again, only to discover the nightmarish apparition was, in fact, still there.

Zim was standing there in front of him, a peeved look on his green face as he continued ringing the bell. He looked even more gaunt and inhuman than usual, and the part of Dib's mind that was still calm and logical filed it away with all the other clues as to what Zim had been up to during his absence.

After he'd rung the doorbell a few more times, the alien turned to him and practically yelled "Take me to the professor!"

The sheer audacity of him. Showing up at Dib's house, threatening his family? A slow, simmering rage built up in him. He was fine with the alien threatening him. (He wasn't, not really; in fact, it was kind of (very) terrifying, but at least he knew the truth, at least he could fight back.) But showing up here, threatening his defenseless family? Because that was what the alien was doing, and he knew it. It was a message to him. 'I know where you live. I know how to get to the people you care about. And if you try and hurt me, stand against me, I can destroy all you love like _that.' _

"Give me one good reason why I should." Dib replied with barely restrained fury.

The alien blinked, an obviously fake confused expression appearing as he scratched the back of his neck with his gloves. "Eh… because he's expecting me?"

Despite himself, the utter weakness of the attempted deception was actually kind of amusing. "Hah! Good one! Nice try, spaceboy, but you're not going to get one over on Dib Membrane!" he crowed. Turning a glare on the alien, his voice turned low and menacing. "Now, the truth this time."

"Ah, there you are! Come in, Zim! It's so good to finally meet you."

Dib startled at his father's voice, which had come out of nowhere. What. What? An expression of relief forming on his face, Zim pushed past Dib's limp body before he could recover enough from his shock to stop him.

"Of _course _it is!" Zim yelled. There was silence for a moment before he picked up again, still over-loud, but a good deal more awkward. Erm... I mean, it's an honor, Professor." Something on the floor appeared to be fascinating Zim immensely.

Dib looked back between his father and Zim in disbelief, not willing to believe what his eyes were telling him. Desperately hoping to interrupt this scene straight out of the Twilight Zone, Dib, finally able to shake himself out of his shocked stillness, stepped in between them, turning pleading eyes on his father, begging him to listen, to understand. Something cold ran down his spine at the thought of turning his back to the alien, but he wouldn't try anything here. Surely not. Not when he was still trying to keep up his pathetic, insulting disguise.

"Dad, wait, you don't understand! Whatever he told you to convince you, it's a lie! He's an alien, and he wants to take over the Earth—you can't let him near your inventions, you can't let him inside!" His voice was desperate, pleading, as a slideshow of nightmarish imagery flashed through his mind, faster and faster, detailing all the horrific things Zim might be able to do with access to one of the greatest scientific minds and some of the most cutting-edge technology in existence.

"Now, be nice, Dib." his father said, voice turning stern. "That's not a very kind thing to accuse someone of. Zim here is just- Well, I can't tell you what I'm doing with him, doctor-patient confidentiality, after all! I'm going to key Zim into the security systems, and while I do that, I want you to _apologize." _As his father walked away, a faint mutter of "poor, insane son" could be heard. Dib grit his teeth to the point where his jaw started to ache as he turned back to the gloating alien.

Zim was glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest, and a large bag on the floor next to him.

"Well? Zim is waiting." the green menace said, tapping his foot impatiently.

His father was at the far end of the room, setting up the security system, clearly well within earshot. It was perfectly clear to Dib in that moment that if he wanted to stay in his father's good graces and have any sort of chance at convincing him to hear him out in the future, he had to acquiesce to his father's demands. He had to apologize to the being hell-bent on destroying them all. It was disgusting, it made him sick, but for the sake of the planet, he could do it. He just had to… swallow his pride.

"I'm… sorry." Dib finally ground out.

"For?"

Was the alien really going to make him spell it out?

"For… saying that you're an alien trying to conquer the planet," he eventually managed, feeling like he was gagging on every word as he forced them from his throat.

"Hmm. Apology appreciated, but _not _accepted." Nose upturned like the condescending bastard he was, Zim marched off towards his father, leaving Dib there to stew in his own frustration and uselessness.


End file.
